No Such Thing As Spares
by lyinginthedark
Summary: Cassius Warrington, a Slytherin, is the Hogwarts TriWizard Champion; how will this affect the tournament? How will it affect the war?


A/N: This is a short chapter, because it's the prologue. After this one chapters will be longer, promise! I was inspired to write this after seeing a post on Tumblr, it moved me to tears and I had to write it, I just had to. I hope I do it justice. Review and let me know what you think.

The entire hall held it's breathe, waiting for the Hogwarts champion to be announced. The Weasley twins were sitting on the edges of their seats, fingers crossed and eyes darting around at the various students who'd bet on who'd be picked.

The Goblet's flame burst blue, throwing a single scrap of paper high into the air. The flame died and the only sound left to hear was the soft fluttering the paper made as it descended towards Dumbledore's outstretched hand, "Cassius Warrington!".

A pin could have been heard in the moment following the announcement. Students and teachers alike staring at each other in surprise, many of them had had no idea any Slytherin's had even entered. After a moment a young man stood from the Slytherin table, he was tall and his shoulders were broad; the definition of a great hulking Slytherin.

He moved with a hesitant lurch, his first steps echoed around the still silent hall. The Slytherin's started to cheer, standing and stamping their feet at this victory over the other houses. Raising their voices to drown out the whispers at the other tables, covering the occasional catcall until he had made it to the door to the Champions Room at the other end of the hall.

The door swung closed behind him and the whispers rose to a near deafening pitch, "Warrington? A Slytherin! No!" Ron could be heard shouting over the din, his voice carrying easily.

Before the teachers could restore order the Goblet once again flared blue, stealing the attention of the hall. Confusion coloured Dumbledore's face as he watched another piece of paper fall towards him, its edges smoking, "Harry Potter…Harry Potter!"

The explosion of noise could no doubt be heard in Hogsmeade, the only house to remain seated was Slytherin, the rest of the hall stood and stamped along as Harry walked slowly towards Dumbledore. Ron glared, his eyes dark as the others cheered, and Hermione gazed worriedly after Harry; she was the only one who noticed how scared and surprised he'd been to hear his own name.

Dumbledore watched calculatingly as Harry stepped through into the Champions Room. McGonagall stood frozen, her throat stuck around the urge to scream out against Harry being allowed to compete. Snape was rigid beside her, anger surging through him at the audacity of Harry Potter. Hagrid was already wiping tears as discreetly as he could; fear trapping him in his seat.

Harry though, Harry was through the door and into the world of Champion, and he was terrified.

Fleur looked up at the sound of the door, frowning at him. "Do they need us for something?", her voice was sharp and unfriendly.

"No," Harry shook his head, uncomfortable with her scrutiny. Just as she opened her mouth to respond the door banged against the wall as it was thrown open. Dumbledore rushed into the room, the teachers and Ministry officials pouring in behind him.

Harry flinched at the loud, ominous bang the door made when it closed. He scrambled back against the wall, instincts screaming at him as Dumbledore came towards him, "Did you put your name in the Goblet?"

"No!" Harry pushed back as far as he could, painfully scraping his hands on the cold stone of the wall.

"Did you ask an older student to do it for you?" Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling like crazy, Harry noted, turning his gaze to McGonagall just behind him. She had a hand on Dumbledore's arm, keeping him from pressing any further into Harry's space he realised. He shot her a grateful look.

"No Professor I didn't," He could see that he wasn't being believed, "I didn't enter the tournament! I don't want to compete; I'm perfectly happy with Warrington representing Hogwarts!" Warrington was standing by the door, behind everyone, having been pushed back when the teachers had come in. He was watching, his eyes trained on Harry like a hawk watched prey. There was no anger in his eyes, no heat that promised retribution; perhaps that was even relief Harry saw in his eyes?

Talk turned towards who would want Harry in the tournament, Harry's mind flooding with bad outcomes as his imagination ran wild with the insinuation that someone was trying to kill him again. One guess who.

Finally, the press of people moved back, allowing air to fill Harry's lungs again. Fleur gave him one disdainful look and flounced after Madame Maxime, Krum didn't even acknowledge his presence as he swept from the room. The only one left was Warrington.

Harry didn't feel up to fighting; he slumped against the wall, his weight taking him to the floor. He was only fourteen, how was he supposed to compete against three seventeen-year old's? In tasks that had killed people before?

Warrington finally left the room.

Harry gave into the urge to press his face into his hands.

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